


Nativity

by WerepuppyBlack



Category: Bad Education (UK TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:17:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WerepuppyBlack/pseuds/WerepuppyBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Form K are asked to put on a nativity play. Yup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nativity

**Author's Note:**

> Intended purely to make giggles.

It was Fraser's fault. Alfie was adamant. If anyone asked him, it was Fraser's idea, so logically it had to be his fault. Who thought that they could do a Nativity play of all things? Just to try to show up Middleton House who were hosting their annual Winter Wonderland Extravagance, this year featuring a string quartet and a male acapella show choir group. Abbey Grove was not the sort of place that could do a nativity. But a nativity it was, and Fraser had looked to Alfie to put it together. Big mistake. 

On the stage, behind the curtain, sat Joe garbed in the Joseph costume. He was holding a crook and was scratching at the beard he had been given to make him seem 'older', at least that was the reason he was told. It looked like badly dyed cotton wool stuck haphazardly on to cardboard. “Alfie, it's really itchy.” 

“Stop scratching at it and you'll be fine,” Alfie adjusted the head piece of Joe's costume, and stood back to admire his handiwork. Really, a tea-towel and the school tie worked so well, he didn't see what Rosie had been on about, claiming it was disrespectful. Well, okay, maybe he did a little, but they didn't exactly have a budget to work with here. “There,” he said, “perfect! Right,” he turned to face Jing, “so, just checking, you do know what Christmas is ab--” he trailed off at the evil look Jing was shooting him. “Great, that's great.” He beamed. “Break a leg everyone!” 

He slipped out to the front of the curtains. The awaiting parents and students applauded politely. Alfie nodded awkwardly, and tapped the waiting mic on the stage. The feedback hissed and he winced. “Ahem,” he coughed. “The Story of the First Christmas,” he said into the microphone, “as presented by Form K.” Another round of polite applause, and Alfie dove back behind the curtains. They were a student short – Billy had gotten himself stuck up a tree somehow – and so Alfie had to take over his part. As such, Rosie was being the narrator. 

“The Angel Gabriel was sent by God to the city in Galilee, called Nazareth,” she said. The curtains opened, showing Chantelle sitting on a seat. She was wearing a white t-shirt, with white miniskirt, sheer stockings, and high silver heels. She wore a decorative pair of wings, and hang tinsel wound round her head rather like a halo. She was paying more attention to the filing she was doing to her nails, inspecting them with her head titled to the side as though what she saw didn't please her. “The Angel was to speak with the Virgin Mary,” Rosie continue. Jing made her entrance. 

“Jing, I thought you and --” Chantelle stopped, as Jing shook her head furiously. Rosie looked at the girls on stage, making a subtle 'go on' gesture with her hands. “Oh, right,” Chantelle stood, and gave a small throat clearing coughing. “Alright Mary?” She said, grinning. “Like, I'm here from God to tell you that you're going to have a baby.” 

“That's biologically impossible,” Jing responded. There was a cry of outrage from backstage. Jing and Chantelle promptly ignored it. 

“No, but like, it's part of the wonder of God, you know,” Chantelle nodded her head, eyes wide as if she was seriously impressed with this miracle of nature. “It's gonna be a boy, and God says you've to call him Jesus.” There was a pause. “Which is nice enough, but I thought you might like Carmichael, or Canton, something classy like that,” Chantelle shook her head, well sculpted curls flying delicately about her face. “But God wasn't for having it. He was all no, it's got to be Jesus, 'cause he's gonna save the world or something.” 

“I don't have a choice in this, do I?” Jing sounded irritated. “Fine.” 

“Oh, and he's made your cousin Lizzie preggers as well.” 

“... I am having serious doubts about this father of my supposed child,” Jing said. There were gasps from the crowd, but she didn't roll her eyes. Instead, she primly fixed her glasses, and recalled the actual line that she was meant to say at this point. Yes, believe it or not, they did have a script, it was just that Jing was the only one who had read it. “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done to me according to thy word.” 

“Alright,” Chantelle said, walking offstage. Jing sat for a moment longer, before walking off herself. Rosie stared, momentarily lost for words. 

“Wh...” she began, before remembering herself. “The Angel departed from Mary. Joseph was simply a man of the times and though he did not want to expose his wife, he felt as though he had to do away with her privately.” Joe stood awkwardly on the stage, as the audience hissed at his horribleness. 

“It's just in the script,” Joe said. 

“While he thought on these unpleasant things,” said Rosie, “the Angel of the Lord appeared to him in his sleep.” 

“Alright, Joe?” Chantelle walked back on stage, texting all the while on her phone. “Listen, God says you're having all these bad thoughts about the fact that he knocked up your wife.” The audience tittered, taken with Chantelle compellingly modern taken on the Angel. There was something, Alfie noticed from his position backstage, refreshingly straightforward about the way Chantelle didn't mince her words. “He says he's sorry about that, really he is, mate, but you need to chill, alright?” 

“I wasn't thinking anythi-” Joe tried to say, but Chantelle spoke over him. 

“He's gonna be a great little kid, you're gonna call him Jesus, and teach him to … I don't know, play footie,” Chantelle said. “And then he'll go on to save the world. Or something. We good? Good.” Chantelle walked off stage again. Joe stood awkwardly for a few moments before giving a jerk as though he had just woken up, and ran off stage. He bumped into Alfie in the back, who grinned madly and gave him two thumbs up. Joe hid his face in his palm.

Joe and Jing walked back on stage. “In that time a decree went out from Caesar, that every man must return to his home town to be counted,” Rosie read from her cue cards. “And so Joseph and Mary set out to Joseph's home town of Bethlehem.” Joe and Jing walked around the stage, miming the actions that Rosie was reading out. “Bethlehem was very busy due to Caesar's decree, and so it was very late at night, when they were very tired, that they came upon the last inn.” 

Alfie stepped forward. “I'm sorry,” his delivery was wooden and robotic at the same time, if such a thing were even possible. “The only room we have is a stable.” 

Jing gave out a very loud groan, accompanied by painful sounding moans. The noises were so good that they made many in the audience jump. When accompanied with the way that she was clutching at her stomach, well, there was going thing going through their mind. Joe cast a nervous glance at Jing. “That'll do,” he said. 

“After you've given it a wash out,” Jing added. Rosie stared. 

“An...” she coughed, shaking her head, and looking back down at the cue cards, attempting to find her place once again. “And it came to pass that while they were in the manager, Mary had her baby, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in the manager.” Jing followed these actions, setting down a plastic baby doll that she eyed critically. She looked at Joe and then back down to the baby. 

“Well, he doesn't take after either of us,” she said simply. There were laughs in the audience. Joe managed a weak smile as they looked towards Rosie, who was not so subtly hitting herself with her cue cards on the forehead. 

“In the same country,” she continued eventually, “there was a Shepard tending to his sheep.” Stephen walked on to the stage in a very stylish outside. Rosie stared. “...I thought you were a Shepard.” 

“I'm The Shepard,” Stephen clicked his fingers. “Best at what I do and my sheep give out the best wool for miles around. Ask anyone, you know it's true.” He sat down gingerly on the stage and looked to the sky. “Well, it's a clear night tonight, thank God,” he said to no one in particular. “Last time it rained, it completely ruined the new look I'd been working on.” He stared off into the distance, idly playing with one of the small sheep plush toys he had brought out to represent his flock. It seemed for a moment as though they had forgotten they were doing a play, when Chantelle walked back out. “Babes!” Stephen squealed happily, as they hugged. “Oh my God, it's been ages, tell all the goss!”

“Babes, you are not going to believe it,” Chantelle replied. “So you know I'm the Angel of the Lord, right?” 

“Of course.” 

“Well, he's only gone and had a kid!” The two friends gave out happy squealing noises. “He's going to save the world, or something. An' he's called Jesus, and he and his Mum are totally slumming it at this stable.” There was a pause, before her face brightened. “I have just had the most amazing idea!” She flailed her hands and smiled brightly. “You should go and visit them! They're not far, only in Bethlehem.” 

“Bethlehem?” Stephen pondered on this. “Well, they do have that organic market, and I am out of soya milk...” He grinned widely, and shrugged. “Alright, why not. I'll take one of the sheep for the little boy. Jesus you say? Fashionable, very ancient world.” He nodded approvingly and followed Chantelle off-stage. Joe and Jing returned, carrying the baby. Someone pressed a tape recorder to make the noises of a baby crying but it was quickly stopped. 

“No crying he made the song goes,” Jing said. She leant over the manger, and cooed at the plastic baby doll inside. “Because he's a good little boy,” her voice was surprisingly soft, but cheery enough to distract a real child if there were one – and no, Mitchell had been yelled at for suggesting they could use his godson. “And he is going to be a brilliant academic and do his Mummy proud.” 

“And he'll get to see 18s before he's 18,” Joe added in a nod. Stephen re-entered the stage, carrying one of the sheep plush toys under his arm. 

“Hello,” he gave a jolly wave. “I'm The Shepard, and the Angel of the Lord told me I could find the baby Saviour of the World or something here?” He looked aroound, and saw the baby and let out a high pitched sqeual. “Oh, he is the most adorable!” He rushed forward, and placed the toy sheep at the foot of the manger, leaning over the make shift crib to coo in at the small toy as though it were a real baby. Stephen was like that; he would make a great Dad one day. 

“Oy, is the brat King here?” Mitchell's entry to the stage was signalled by Rem-Dogg almost ramming his wheelchair into the back of Stephen's legs.

“Sorry, mate,” Rem Dogg said. He turned and looked at Mitchell with a glare. “An' I told you the kid was here, I'm the Star,” he jabbed a thumb at the large cardboard star stuck to the pole coming attached to the back of his wheelchair. He had wanted to be the Wise Man, but Alfie had insisted he was the best person to be the star. Needless to say, Rem Dogg wasn't entirely pleased. “An' the Star knows his stuff, alright?” he jutted his chin out in a challenging manner. 

“Alright,” Mitchell said, grinning past Rem Dogg to Jing. “So, haven't seen you in about, oh,” the grin grew, “9 months.” 

Alfie had made sure to point out, when the chaos subsided, that it had all been Fraser's idea in the first place


End file.
